What do you do when a tall, dark and extremely handsome young man keeps coming into your life like a sweet nightmare. One that makes your heart race like his touch, but has your skin crawling under his evanescent body language. There's a disconnect between either a want and a need or a longing and a fear.

Speak the same tongue I ask, because right now your eyes are whispering breaths of promise, breaths of hope- while your feet dance a distant step away from this place. Your eyes are soft and calm amidst a face of definite angularity. A humor so contagious it masks the hardened shadow of pain. And an embrace terribly gentle that the nature of your passion is washed away by its warmth.

I often fall asleep with the hope that this nightmare will go away. That the beast it feeds on will be nullified. But without my nightmare, without my tears, there would be no longing. There would be no fight. His eyes are a rich with compassion and his heart is full of selflessness. And although he may not see me for what I would like, he's still my sweet nightmare.